


That damned bridge

by TheBlazeCal



Series: Finished Spideypool stories [29]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, spideypool - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 02:22:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6265825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlazeCal/pseuds/TheBlazeCal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter finds himself mourning what he has lost on top of the bridge that took so much, but he gets company quickly enough, company he doesn't quiet welcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That damned bridge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThatTree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatTree/gifts).



> Tree and I were discussing Gwen's death a while ago, and the ways a bound could be formed with Wade...

The sound of cars passing underneath was nearly unnoticeable compared to the howling wind around him as he sat on top of the bridge that had been the place he lost so much. It had been over a month, but it felt like only moments ago.

The rage that had consumed him was still fresh, he had managed to bottle it up, but it felt like it could blow at any time. He had never been good with dealing with his emotions, but Spider-Man couldn't exactly walk into a shrink's office and ask for counseling and what could Peter Parker say without blowing his secret identity.

With great power came great responsibility, it was his mantra, it was his guilt, it was what kept him going, but it didn't feel worth it. Somehow though he couldn't take distance from the suit and the ego, as much as Spider-Man was a huge part of his issues, it was also what kept him going.

His spider-sense pulled him out of his train of thought right when he was about to apologize to Gwen for the millionth time, though he doubted she could hear it. A figure jumped up on the bridge part from the cable.

“Last time I was here I killed a drugs-dealer who disguised himself as a nun...”  
“Leave me alone, I know who you are, you're nothing more then a disgusting mercenary, not even respectable like Luke...”  
“Oooh you know who I am hu Spidey... I am flattered, I am a huge fan you see...”

The mercenary came closer, his damaged rumbling voice fell silent after the fan remark as he sat next to him on the edge. Somehow the man's mere presence in his moment of mourning made his anger boil up. A cold blooded murderer for money, little more than a third rate thug was sitting right next to him as if they were equals.

“Get lost before I do something I'll regret...”  
“You know, I could just let myself drop of here, get run over by a whole lign of cars and I'll just...heal up...I don't die.”  
“Just leave!”  
“Humans are so fragile aren't they, one misplaced tug, one plunge, one wrong move and they are gone, like that pretty lady a month ago...”

That did it, the bottle didn't just pop, it exploded, sending a wave of rage through him, the same rage he had felt when facing the green goblin. He slugged the mercenary full power, making him skid to the edge of the bridge, he got up and jumped to the middle of the huge bridge support they were on top of, but Peter wasn't done yet, he threw punch after punch, it took him a long, long time to realize that the mercenary wasn't fighting back.

Gradually his punches lost their strength until he slid down on his knees, screaming out in pain and grief that he had kept buried under a layer of bitterness and self-loathing. The mercenary crouched in front of him and placed a soothing hand on top of his head.

The so called merc with a mouth was silent as he blubbered and wept, it was a different kind of listening then what MJ had done, it was listening to the side of him he couldn't tell MJ about. Somehow it all came out, how the green goblin had taken the woman he loved, how he had gone to get revenge, how he had gone against everything he stood for. How he had been nearly no different from the merc, how he was about to spare the man when him dodging the glider had killed him anyway, how hollow the death had felt.

“Revenge rarely feels rewarding when it ends with death... Killing never feels rewarding to decent people... the guilt and emptiness left behind are often worse than the rage before...”

The merc sat in silence with him for hours to come, somehow he had found himself collapsed exhausted against the larger man's chest as they sat in the howling wind on top of the bridge. For the first time in weeks he didn't feel the burning rage and guilt, he didn't feel anything, but a sense of sadness about what he had lost.

 


End file.
